That Same Old Song
by KaiBlackRose
Summary: AU Day in and day out Sam plays that same old piano in that same old bar, while his friends and family listen. He helps them forget their own problems for just a brief moment before their worlds come crashing down around them. Can the music save them?
1. How the Stories Started

_Okay, I am trying this again. This was my new story, now posted under a different name. It got so little attention I decided to delete it and edit it more (though there might still be errors, i just can't get them all. How frusterating), and then add the second chapter to it. This fic is based very loosely on the song 'The Piano Man' by Billy Joel. Each character is mentioned in the song, but they aren't all doing exactly what the song says. This is written like a novel, more so then a fic. I'm sorry if that a problem, but I'm really working hard on writing scene, so here this one is. This bar is mentioned in my fic 'What Defines Them' but not by name. Kara worked there likes she does still. Also you'll meet a few more original characters. Maybe you'll like them and maybe you'll won't. _

_Anyways please read, review, and most importantly enjoy Also I promise more angst and drama in the next chapter/part._

_~Kai_

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><p><em>To say these were happy stories would be lie, but it would also be lie to say that these stories were a tragedy. These stories are neither of those things because these stories are just about life. <em>

_How the Stories Started:_

The cursive writing that scrawled _The Crossroads_ was lit up with bright red flickering neon lights that illuminated the corner, where four roads met and turned into one for just a single second. The bar was small. The large oak double doors that consisted of the entrance to the bar sat propped open exposing the inside to the cold weather of Kansas in December.

The front walls of the bar were made of long bay windows that over looked the busy street and people passing by. These walls each held four large booths that met at the corner with one even larger booth. Each booth had green vinyl beach seats and a long dark cherry would table, that matched the color of the bar only about ten fifteen feet away or so. Spread out around the bar were four or five cherry wood tables with four seats set around them. Closer to the back of the bar stood a large black grand piano, and next to it was a dated looking jukebox that held records of Elvis Presley, Johnny Cash, and various other artists, who were popular just past the late 1950's. Nothing earlier and nothing later.

On the far end away from the piano and jukebox was standard size pool table with red felt instead of the traditional green.

Behind the actual bar stood a wall that covered in a thin layer of glass, which was interrupted by a couple shelves traveling up towards the ceiling. The mirrors behind the shelves gaze off the grand illusion that the bar had more liquor then it actually did. The beer taps rested just below the long shelves, while the kegs were hidden in the back behind the mirrored wall away from the views of the patrons that just wandered through or the regulars who always sat in their regular seats.

A man, who went by the name of Sam, gazed at himself in one of small gaps in the mirrored wall. He tilted his head as he evaluated his appearance, before he twisted himself around in the barstool and stared at the large crowd that had begun to file in. He's a handsome man with shaggy chestnut brown hair that is pushed back behind his ear, except for the few wayward strands that had escaped and formed his bangs that almost hid his hazel eyes. Stubble had just begun sprout upon his chin and above his lower lip. His skin was white and pale, but that could have been because sun hadn't been seen in weeks, most likely due to the fact it had been hiding behind a thick layer of gray clouds.

He was wearing a red v-neck t-shirt, with a black sports coat over it. He looked stylish, but the large rip in the left knee of his fade blue jeans stunted that possibility. His black leather biker boots tapped against on the support bars of the stool to the beat of Johnny Cash's 'Folsom Prison Blues' that currently filled the bar.

The bar was relatively small and had a thick layer of smoke wafting through it. The man coughed slightly as he leaned back and continued to scope out the crowd. He recognized no faces, but he knew he had seen them before. He had seen all of them before.

It was just past nine of a Saturday and he was sitting in a bar alone. Actually he wasn't alone, beside him sat his gruff adoptive father, who was throwing back a glass of whisky. The man gave him a small smile and patted him on the shoulder in reassurance as the gruff man just stared darkly at the dark amber liquid that rested at the bottom of his glass.

The gruff man had a dingy blue baseball that now had an indecipherable logo that hid his thin and graying hair, but couldn't hide the gruff man's bushy bread. He wore a grey, blue, and white plaid shirt over another white t-shirt that looked stained with large black smears of motor oil. His jeans were also smeared with motor oil as well, but unlike the other man his jeans held no large gaping hole in the knee.

The younger man knew this all of this was hard on his adoptive father, but somehow the man had managed to show up and that was all that mattered to him.

They both began to watch the crowd shuffle in and take their seats as the younger man looked down the bar at the bartender, whose name was Castiel and who was quickly filling orders that were being shouted to him by the growing crowd.

Castiel had been the bartender ever since before the young man had even stepped into the bar what now felt like many long years ago. Or at least that is what he thought.

Castiel finally made eye with contact with his bright and shining sapphire eyes and meandered down the bar and stopped in front of him. Castiel had a coif of unruly black hair that normally stuck out in all directions, but tonight it was slicked back what was probably half a bottle of extra hold hair gel. The collar of Castiel's black polo shirt, which had the bar's logo stitched into it was popped up concealing his neck as he leaned forward on bar in front of the young man.

"What'll yeah have Sam? And you wouldn't need a refill, would yeah, Bobby?" Castiel drawled with a smile that was completely faked. Sam pursed his lips and shrugged.

"Whatever you got in a bottle." Sam said absently as he turned back to his adoptive father, who was holding up his glass indicating he needed a refill. Castiel nodded his head and turned away from them for a brief moment. When he turned back, he had a bottle of Bud in his hand and a long necked bottle of whiskey.

Castiel uncapped the bottle and slid it over to Sam, who picked it up and took a long drink from it. Castiel then tipped the whiskey bottle over Bobby's empty glass, making the amber liquid slosh around like a tiny whirlpool. Bobby stared down into the liquid of a moment, before tightly gripping his glass and bringing it up to his lips.

Castiel spoke up again: "Is Dean going to be here tonight?" He asked slowly as if he was unsure he wanted to ask the question, but he leaned forward on the bar obviously dying to know the answer.

"Yeah, Dean said he was coming, but he had to somehow make up with Lisa. Apparently they broke up…Again, last night after Dean did god knows what." Sam spoke as he watched a pained look wash over Castiel's face for a brief second, before he nodded his head in understanding and turned away heading back to the other end of the bar where another patron of the bar was calling for his attention.

It was obvious to Sam that Castiel harbored feelings for Dean, pretty soon after he had introduced them to one another, was when had first noticed. He also knew better then to mention this revelation to either of them. Dean would have been appalled and would have never looked at Castiel again. While Castiel would have scoffed and denied his attraction, which in the end would actually only confirm it wholeheartedly.

Sam sighed and turned attention away from Castiel and onto the waitress, who had a bright smile spread across her face as she took the orders from the booths that filled the far wall. She was beautiful with her porcelain skin and her long blond ringlets that bounced as she walked up and down the line of booths.

She looked over at him and he felt the air hitch for a moment in his chest as she gave him a bright smile as if she was bestowing her confidence upon him. He smiled back at her and then turned to the door when he saw his brother enter with a cocky grin that could only have meant one thing. He had convinced Lisa to forgive him and they were back together once more.

"Hey Sammy! I'm glad you haven't started yet." He said brightly as he took the vacant seat on Sam's other side. Bobby gave Dean a small nod then returned to his whiskey once again.

"I was waiting for you and don't call me Sammy." Sam said with a little indifference and Dean's eyes widened in shock. "I'm just kidding Dean." Sam chuckled as he stood from his stool and headed towards the opposite corner of the bar.

In that corner sat the elegant grand piano that shined brightly even in the dim low light of the bar. Sam strolled over to the black bench and sat down. The bar, which had been filled with chatter suddenly, went quiet. He looked down at the ivory keys of the piano then back up at the crowd, who were on the edge of their seats, waiting patiently for him to begin.

"Everybody, I'm Sam and I'm your piano man for this evening." He said brightly into his microphone as his fingers gently began to dance across the keys.

The music filled the room quickly and people listened intently. The song was started off soft, but grew louder as the tempo increased.

Sam looked over at Bobby, who had was looking at him proudly and nudging the man on his other side. His pointing and gesturing made Sam smile at his audience as his gaze slipped over to his brother, whose eyes were closed as his foot tapped the rhythm of the song on the leg of the barstool.

Sam saw Castiel was staring over at Dean, with his lips pressed into a hard line before turning to someone who was beckoning for his attention. Another fake smile spread across the man's lips just as he turned and faced another customer. They didn't have a clue.

The waitress had stopped waiting on tables and was listening intently to the music. Sam watched her carefully as raised herself up onto her toes and twirled around before returning gracefully back to earth. Her hair tumbled across her face and a small laugh passed across her lips.

Sam played on, thanking people who placed tips in his tip jar with a nod and a smile. Finally at just past ten he thanked the crowd and said he would be back for more after his break. He would also most likely be back playing next Saturday, but he had to check with the bar's manager first to be absolutely sure. He walked back over to the bar and leaned upon it. A big smile spread across his face as Castiel slid him another Bud.

"That was a really nice set Sam." Castiel said with the first real smile Sam had seen on him. Sam smiled back and nodded his head in agreement. Sam then watched Castiel's smile slip from his face as he looked past Sam and over in the direction, where Dean sat on one of the barstools.

The color faded from Castiel's face and Sam saw a single tear slip down his cheek before the man turned away and hustled towards the other end of the bar.

Sam dared a look over at Dean, who was tossing a small velvet jewelry box up and down in his hand. Slowly Sam paced over to him and raised an eyebrow at the box. Dean eyes widened and then he smiled.

"I decided that Lisa was right. We should get married. I mean what am I really afraid of?" Dean said with a shrug and Sam opened his mouth to speak, but closed it before he actually did. "I can really see myself with her. I'm going to ask her when I get home."

Sam stared at his brother a long moment, then snuck a quick looked over at Castiel, who was now chatting with the waitress. She giggled at something Castiel had said and Sam felt a small stab of jealously in his heart.

It was stupid he shouldn't have been having these feeling especially about a girl that was already taken. He knew this all too well. She came in with him every Friday night and he sat in the back booth far away from the other bar patrons and entertainment. Sam had disliked him from the first moment he had met him, but had kept his mouth shut since he barely knew her.

Sam bit his lip and looked away from the scene and back over at his brother. "Are you sure Dean? I mean what really changed your mind?" Sam asked and Dean tensed and the small velvet box fell to the floor.

"Nothing, why would ask me that?" Dean demanded as he scooped the ring box and shoved it into his pocket.

"No reason, never mind. Just congratulations. I hope this works out. I hope you and Lisa will be happy together." Sam said sincerely as he reached up and squeezed his brother's shoulder tightly. He then turned and waltzed back over to the piano. He sat down and looked out at the thinning crowd and smiled.

Cheers erupted from the crowd suddenly and Sam brought his hands up to the keys and he began playing an excited melody. The melody quickened as the crowed became silent in order to better hear the musician's bare his soul. Sam focused his eyes on his fingers that danced across the ivory keys with jubilation.

He hadn't known where the song had come from, but it was everything he felt, everything that everyone felt was spilling over and onto the piano. That's why these people needed him. He was their translator. The song transitioned suddenly and the notes became soft and longer as he continued to play.

His encored continued for about an hour before he stood up and bowed his head in thanks. He grabbed his tip jar that had sat on the top of his piano and walked back over to his brother and Bobby, who still seemed lost in his music.

"That was a great set Sam." A soft sweet voice sounded from behind and Sam whirled around and stared over at the sterling silver eyes of Kara, the waitress. Her curls were now riding limply on her shoulders instead of bouncing as she walked, but she hadn't seemed too noticed as she hurried over to Sam and gave him a gentle squeeze.

Sam tensed at her contact, but awkwardly hugged her back. She didn't seem to notice his reluctance towards her until she pulled away from and stared up into his eyes once more.

"Thanks…It actually kind of got away from me." He said with a shrug hoping to ease the anxious look she was now giving him because of his uncomfortable posture.

"Really? That's amazing, I really love your music you're so talented…" Her voice faded away as if she wanted to ask something else, but decided at the last minute not too.

Sam had a pretty good guess what it was, "You're wondering why I play at this bar?" He said suddenly and Kara looked taken aback, but nodded her head anyways. "I just assumed it was because I just haven't got the right attention. I'm sure you can relate."

Sam watched a blush brush across Kara's cheeks. She obviously hadn't known that he had known. "Yeah, I do understand. It's tough." She said quietly her lips were pressed into a thin line when she finished.

"Kara! Could you take this order over to booth number five?" Castiel's voice sounded making both of them jump. Kara gave Sam a quick parting smile as she hustled over to the bar and grabbed the tray of drinks.

Sam watched her move carefully. He noticed that ever movement she made fit gracefully into the next. She carefully passed the drinks around to each of the patrons of booth five before she turned and made it back over to the bar by Castiel.

He sighed as he made his way back to his family, who still seemed to be in their own little daze until he knocked them back into reality by speaking. "How did you guys think the encore was?" He asked excitedly.

Both Bobby and Dean smiled at him and nodded their head approvingly. Sam knew he didn't play for anyone, but himself. Yet, he always felt his heart well up with pride as he saw the proud smiles from his family. It made playing music even better than it already was.

The rest of the night after that went by quickly. Regular bar patrons walk over and patted him on the shoulder and praised him for his talent. Sam smiled and nodded giving them thanks. New comers to the bar would do the same, but their praising consisted of 'What are you doing here?'

Sam would always shrug. He didn't know how he had found this bar or maybe even how the bar had found him, but he knew that he had come here and it was where he wanted to play. This was where people came to listen to his music and that was enough for him.

At just past twelve Dean said a quick goodbye to Sam to probably hurried home to Lisa. Then after that Sam hailed a taxi for Bobby and waved until the taxi had long disappeared into the distance. He quickly shuffled back into the bar, which was now empty expect for Castiel who was wiping down the bar and Kara who was swiftly setting chairs up on tables.

Castiel looked over at him when he reentered, but quickly turned back to his work. From what Sam could judge he thought Castiel seemed like he was preoccupied by something, but maybe that was just him. The news about Dean proposing to Lisa probably had hit him hard.

"I'm heading home." Kara said suddenly as she lifted the last up on to the table. Castiel locked gazes with her and nodded his head.

"Alright, I'll probably be another hour. I've got to do inventory." Castiel said back to her and then she nodded.

Sam had learned that they lived together a while ago, but that didn't make them discussing it any easier for him. In all honesty he wasn't sure how he felt. Sure he liked her, but how far did that go? How deep was it really? He wasn't sure and that was probably what bothered him the most.

"Are you leaving too Sam?" Kara said suddenly and Sam turned around to face her.

"Yeah…" He said with a shrug.

"Great…Because…Could you walk me home?" She said quietly and Sam eyes went wide in surprise.

"Sure, of course." He said in a rush and Kara raised an eyebrow in skepticism.

"Thank you." She said softly as she hurried off to the back of the bar to get her purse. She was only gone for a few minutes and when she returned she had a stylish black leather coat and a small black leather purse draped across her shoulder. Both of them walked out together and down the street, leaving Castiel behind at the bar.


	2. Story I Part I: Castiel

_Here's chapter two written in Castiel's perspective...each chapter is written in a different characters persective, and everyone has a different problems, but they are of course all connected, but how won't revealed until much later. _

_Now please read, review, and enjoy. Thank you_

_~Kai_

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><p><em>Story I Part I: Castiel<em>

Castiel paced back and forth in the alley behind the bar. The alleyway behind the bar was littered with discarded trash and gum which had been stepped in so many times that it and the pavement had become one. The only light being shed on Castiel was from the street lamp on the far corner of the building were the four road intersected becoming the crossroads.

Castiel stood mostly in the dark being that the service entrance to the bar, which was at back of the alley , with a cigarette dangling from his lips as he fumbled helpless with his lighter that wouldn't light.

He should have seen this coming. He should have expected this. It had been too good to be true.

"Fuck!" He yelled as he threw the crappy lighter on to the ground and stamped on it with his foot.

"Cas?" A voice sounded and Castiel froze.

He clenched his eyes shut before he turned to face the man, who stood at the other end of the alley.

"What do you want Dean?" Castiel spat as he opened his eyes and whirled around. His hands balled into tight fists at his side.

Dean took a hesitant step forward towards Castiel, who just took a step back.

"Come on Cas. It doesn't have to be this way?" He sighed as if he might have been feeling put out by Castiel's reaction.

Castiel eyes narrowed as he glared darkly at Dean. "It doesn't have to be what way Dean? You promised! You promised you Son-Of-A- Bitch!" Castiel spat as he enunciated every word he spoke. Dean just sighed again and shrugged.

"What did you really expect Cas? You knew I wasn't going to be with you completely. You should have known!" Dean said harshly and Castiel shook his head, while biting his lip.

"Your right…I should have known." Castiel mumbled as he reached a shaking hand up and pushed it through his gel slicked hair. "I should have known that you were so far in the closet that you would try to cover it up by marrying the one woman to dense to actually see it! Maybe I should just go right out and tell her that her boyfriend is a fucking fag!" Castiel spat.

Dean rushed forward and slammed his fist into the side of Castiel's face. Castiel staggered backwards and reached a hand up brushing it across his now spilt lower lip.

"Don't talk about shit you don't understand!" Dean growled as he reached over and grabbed the collar of Castiel's black polo shirt. "Did you hear me?" Dean yelled this time shaking Castiel as he said it.

He released his vice grip from Castiel's shirt and shoved him away. He shook his head and turned sprinting down the alley out of Castiel's site.

Castiel suddenly felt his knees buckle and he collapsed on to the pavement. He tried to suck air into his lungs, but all it did was hitch in his throat along with his sobs. Slowly he got himself in control and pulled himself back up to his feet and stumbled back into the bar to finish locking it up.

Castiel finished at just past one thirty and headed home, which was only a few blocks from here in a rundown brick apartment building with ivy crawling up its side. He marched there not paying much attention to his surroundings until, he turned up, and walked up his stoop of the building.

His apartment was up three more flights, and when he reached his door which had number that was carved into the door looked like it might have been a small pen knife. He shoved the key into the lock and gave it harsh twist. The tumbler fell and he pushed the door and trudged inside.

He spotted Kara sitting on the raggedy couch with a bowl of popcorn sitting in her lap as she watched a movie that was staring George Clooney. When she heard the door close she turned around and her eyes grew wide. Quickly she scrambled off the couch spilling the popcorn as she rushed over to Castiel's side.

"What happened to you?" Kara said as reached up and brushed her thumb over Castiel's split lip.

"He broke up with me and I threatened to spill his secret." Castiel sighed and Kara's hand fell to her side.

"You did what?"

"I threatened to expose his secret." Castiel muttered again as he looked away from Kara.

"How could you do that?" Kara demanded harshly and Castiel gave her a pained look.

"I don't know…I guess I was just so hurt. It just slipped out. I would never hurt him like that. You do believe I would never tell anyone his secret right?" Castiel desperately pleaded to Kara, who slowly nods her head up and down.

"I know you wouldn't." Kara said softly as she pulled Castiel into a tight embrace.

"I don't know what to do anymore." Castiel mumbled into Kara's slender shoulder.

"I don't know what you should do about that either, but I do know that you need to get some sleep. But first come one let me treat your lip." She said gently as she gripped Castiel's hand and led him to their bathroom.

He sat on the closed toilet seat and looked up at Kara, with a defeated expression. She got the antiseptic from under the sink and a pack of cotton balls from drawer.

Kara wetted a cotton ball with the antiseptic and dabbed it carefully onto Castiel's lip. He flinched at the first contact of the medicine, and Kara pulled back slightly before she pressed it gently onto the wound once more.

"Are you going to tell me, who he is now?" Kara asked quietly and Castiel just shook his head.

"No." He said softly.

"Okay." She said and that was the end of the discussion because she didn't press him anymore and he couldn't tell her in words just how much he appreciated that.

After that he went to bed and laid there for a couple long hours until he finally slipped into sleep.

~/~

Castiel woke up in the morning with the light flooding into his room from the window on the far side of his room. He groaned and stretched his arms above his head. He remembered in great detail about what had happened last night and he felt his stomach clench. He rolled over and tried to ignore the churning in his stomach, but finally gave up and threw the covers off himself and stood up.

He quickly paced out of his bedroom and into the small living room, where he found Kara once gain sitting on the couch, eating a bowl of shredded wheat. She looked up at him gave him a small smile, which he didn't even bother to try to return as he headed directly for the kitchen, and to the coffee pot that was percolating.

He stared at it for a long moment as if hoping that his will would make it go faster, but sadly it didn't. He heard Kara shuffled into the kitchen after him and place her cereal bowl into the sink absentmindedly filling it full of water before she turned to Castiel.

"How are you feeling?" She asked slowly as she wrapped her arms around herself like she was cold or uncomfortable. For all Castiel knew it could have been both.

Castiel swayed back and forth upon the balls of his feet. He then gave her a shrug and she let out an exasperated sigh.

"Please Castiel. Talk to me, I have to get to the company in like an hour and I would really enjoy it more if I knew you were okay."

Castiel bit his lip and shrugged again, "I wouldn't say I'm better. In fact I wouldn't say I'm anything because if I am anything then I'm just numb. And nobody wants to be that." He muttered as he turned away from Kara and back towards the coffee maker.

"Oh Castiel." She whispered as she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him. He didn't return the embrace. "I'm sorry."

"I…I don't think I can stay here." He said slowly as he continued to his gaze fixed on the coffee maker.

Kara released him and looked at him with a confused expression, "I'm not sure I follow Cas?"

"I think I need to move…Away." He added as Kara's eyes grew wide. She frantically began shaking her head from side to side.

"No! Cas, you can't." She pleaded.

"I can't stand to look at him and he won't be able to look at me after that threat I made. I think it would just be best if I walked away." He muttered as he brought a hand up and pushed it through his untamed mess of hair.

"But what about me? What about you're other friends? There's more to your world then just him! I don't want you to leave and that should count for something." She said, her voice rising in volume as she spoke.

"Your right it should, but this time it doesn't. I'm sorry Kara, but I can't." He said as a pained look flashed across his face and a tear dripped into the pot.

Kara bit her lip as she turned away from him and raced from the kitchen. She slammed the door to the apartment, which was the only indication that she had left at all.

Castiel knew where she was going, and he knew why she was upset. He would have been upset if she had said the exact same things that he had. He pulled a mug off the shelf that was adjacent to the coffee pot and poured himself a cup of coffee. He paced back to his room and looked about it.

He wasn't sure what he had been expecting to see or understand, but whatever it was it hadn't come to him. He went to his bed and reached under yanking out an empty dust covered suit case. He looked around his room once more before he started the daunting task of packing just his essentials.

About an hour later his clothes were pack and the rest of his things were in boxes. None of the processions in the boxes were what he needed, but most of it did have some sentimental value. He only really bothered taking two things that were clothes and that was photograph of Kara and himself in a wide pearl colored frame and a solid blue tie. A gift Dean had once given him for an occasion Castiel didn't even remember.

He had thought it would have been easier to just let Dean go, but in the end he couldn't seem to let himself. Slowly he traced his fingers over the satin tie. Castiel vividly remembered Dean's reason to why he had given him the tie was because of how similar the color was to his eyes.

Castiel sighed and gently placed the tie on top of the pile beside the picture and its frame. He then shut the lid of suit case and quickly zipped it up. He stood up and grabbed the suitcase by its handle and hauled it out of the apartment.

He had left a note to Kara on the coffee table in the living room stating that she could do whatever she desired with the rest of his things because he no longer desired them. He then continued to tell her that he loved her and was happy they had become best friends and that she had been the rest roommate he had ever had.

He closed the door to the apartment. He didn't look back as he rolled his suitcase behind and over to the bar.

To his disappointment Sam Winchester was there chatting with the owner about when his next gig was going to be. Castiel smiled at Sam pleasantly as their locked eyes.

Sam's eyebrows arched in confusion as he studied Castiel's fake smile then slipped from the man to his suitcase.

"Going on a trip Cas?" He asked in an inquisitive tone.

"No. I'm moving." He said flatly and both Sam and the owner looked at him with wide eyes.

"You're leaving?" The manager said in a low voice of disbelief and Castiel nodded his head up and down in response.

The manger was a suave man, who had short dark hair was styled into spikes by pushing your hand through them. His sterling silver eyes glared into Castiel as he adjusted the red tie that hung around his neck. The manger was wearing a stylish three piece suit that consisted of a pair of black pants, black jacket, and a white dress shirt.

"I'm sorry Cain…" Castiel muttered looking down at the ground avoiding eye contact with the man.

Cain pursed his lips and turned to look at Sam, "I'm sorry Sam, but could I have a minute alone with my bartender. Sam nodded and disappeared into the back of the bar to where Cain's office was located.

"Are you going to tell me why, at the very least?" Cain said with a sigh as he leaned against the bar, crossing his arms across his chest as he waited rather impatiently for Castiel's response.

"I'd rather not." Castiel said as he looked back up into Cain's eyes.

"Is Kara still working for me?" Cain sighed again and Castiel nodded his head. "Well it's nice to know I'm only down one employee."

Castiel turned to leave, but Cain spoke up again and Castiel froze at the bar's entrance. "I hope that where ever you're going you find what you're looking for." Cain called and Castiel looked over his shoulder at his now former boss.

"I already lost faith in finding what I was looking for." He said solemnly as he walked out of the bar and down the street.

A few blocks later Castiel extracts his cell phone from his pocket with a shaking hand. He dials a number and listens to it ring. He holds his breath, hoping that the one on the other end wouldn't answer. For the first time that day Castiel had luck on his side and the phone beeped, indicating that the call went to voice mail.

"It's Castiel; I 'm leaving just like you asked me too. Now please don't expose Dean's secret. Just leave him alone. I'm leaving and I won't come back…." Castiel finished and snapped his phone shut as he finally let the tears slip down his cheeks. He had been holding them in all day.


	3. Story II Part I: Dean

_Hey readers, the few that you are,_

_... I'm glad you're here. And Tendencia thank you for reviewing this story and actually giving it some support. This has been sitting on my computer for awhile and i haven't written much more of it recently, but i want too...i just don't feel inspired...can you help me change that? My plot must not be interesting or something...maybe this is should be discontinued...anyways enjoy this chapter and there is a good chance that there will be a few more, but after that i'm not makeing an commitments. _

_Now if you please...read, review, and enjoy _

_Kai_

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><p><em>Story II Part I: Dean<em>

Dean sat with his head pressed into the steering wheel of the Impala. The small velvet ring box tossed aside in the passenger seat. Tears stung his eyes as he tried to harshly brush them away with the back of his hand.

It hadn't meant to go like this. He had been so sure Castiel would have been happy for him. He pressed his closed as a tilted his head up to the tan vinyl ceiling of the Impala. He had been sitting in his car, in his own driveway for over an hour, just trying to get a grip on himself. He seemed to be failing miserably because the horrible pained look that had crossed over Castiel's face when he had announced the news kept haunting him.

"Dean?" A soft voice sounded and he looked up and into the chocolate eyes of Lisa. She had a worried expression stretched across her face as she approached the Impala. She gently tapped on the window of the passenger seat and began pulling her floral around her person tighter in a feeble attempt to keep warm.

He blinked his eyes a few times in hope the redness would diminish even just slightly.

"Dean, what's the matter?" Lisa said again as she pulled open the passenger side door and slid inside.

Dean just shook his head. He didn't know what to say. "Just having a bad day I guess." He muttered.

He hadn't thought it would hurt this much.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She asked slowly in a low voice and Dean just shook his head.

"I think I might have hurt someone I never intended to hurt." He muttered as he continued to shake his head.

Lisa pursed her lips and sighed as she reached over and gently placed her hand on Dean's cheek.

"I'm sorry. Come on inside and get some sleep. I'm sure you can talk to them in the morning and get this whole thing figured out." She said convincingly and Dean looked over at her.

"You're probably right." He said finally as he shifted comfortably in his seat to turn and completely face Lisa. "You help me put everything in perspective. No other person ever can seem to do that. That's why I really really thought about this and I came to the conclusion that you were right."

"Dean, what are you talking about?" She muttered.

Dean bit his lip and reached over to the seat, reaching under her butt. She squeaked in surprise as Dean then slowly pulled out the small box.

"I actually wanted to do this a little differently, but I think since I have the nerve. I should do it now. I have been with you for a while now. I mean I realize that during that time, there were times that we weren't. But we are now and…" Dean paused and swallowed, ignoring the large lump that had someone gotten lodged in his throat. "I love you. So, will you Lisa Braeden become my wife?" finished by opening the small box and revealing a small diamond ring set in the center with two small sapphires on either side.

Lisa stared at it for a long moment as tears began to well up in her eyes and she lunged at Dean throwing her arms around his neck, just before she began sobbing loudly into his neck.

They stayed this way for a couple of minutes before Lisa finally pulled away from Dean and shook her head.

"I can't marry you Dean, even though I want to so much." She whispered as she pushed open the Impala's door and stepped out.

Dean swallowed the hard lump that had formed in his throat and nodded his head after her. Her answer was probably for the best, but that didn't mean it hadn't hurt like hell. It just seemed to be one of those nights.

~/~

Dean stood looking down into the depths of a 09' mustang GT. The car was almost brand spanking new and there was already a problem with its engine. Or at least that was what the frustrated owner kept yelling as it got towed into Bobby's salvage yard that morning.

Dean scanned the engine, but nothing seemed to be a miss. He wiped his brow with a greasy rag and turned back to the owner, whose arms were across his chest and was tapping his foot rather impatiently.

"It'll take me sometime." Dean said with a sigh and the owner rolled his eyes as he mouthed the words 'Of course'.

Dean frowned and began to walk away.

"Hey! Wait, where are you going? Aren't you going to fix my car?" The car owner demanded and Dean shook his head.

"I would, but I don't have the time nor do I have the patience to deal with a dick like you." Dean said with a shrug and the owner bristled as he marched up to Dean and jabbed a finger into Dean's chest.

"I'll have you know that I'm a CEO of a very important company!" The guy yelled and Dean shrugged again.

"So, is that suppose to impress me into fixing your car, or was it somehow a threat to get me to fix your car? Just so you know it won't make me fix your car." Dean said levelly, his voice never increasing in volume.

"I can make your life a living hell if you're not careful." The man spat.

Dean just rolled his eyes. "I'd like to see you try! And I'm not going to fix your car. Get another mechanic to do it. That's final." Dean said darkly as his eyes narrowed upon the man. The man took a small step back in alarm and then scrambled away down to the entrance of the salvage yard.

"Boy! You can't keep sending our customers away just because they ain't that nice of people. The world is filled with dicks, whose cars break just as much or more then the nice ones." Bobby's gruff voice sounded and Dean flinched.

"Right, I'll keep that in mind for the next guy." Dean mumbled in annoyance as he felt Bobby's eyes narrow upon him.

"You better! Or I'm going to have to fire your ass." Bobby snapped and Dean flinched again.

"You wouldn't fire family." Dean snapped as he whirled around to face Bobby.

"Do you really want to make that bet boy?" Bobby said mincingly and Dean quickly shook his head. "You know, one day son, you'll end up doing something you will really regret if you keep doing what you're doing."

"What makes you think I already haven't?" Dean challenged.

"Now, that isn't something a man, who just got engaged should say. Now go help that man with his car! I mean it." Bobby said sternly as he trudged down one of the many rows of crushed and mangled cars. Dean huffed as he marched off towards the front gate of the salvage yard. He hadn't had the heart to tell Bobby that Lisa had said no.

The man was still at the front gate with a cell phone glued to his ear. The man was short and had short scruffy blond hair that looked like it had never met a brush in its life. The man was wearing a black sports coat over a pale yellow shirt, with a pair of dark blue jeans.

He was speaking rapidly into the phone and Dean was having a hard time understanding him despite only being a couple of feet away. The man finally looked over at Dean as he approached and gave him a curl smirk. He then shut his phone and went over to Dean.

Dean glared at the man and said: "I'll fix your car."

"Well thank you. All my friends at work told me that this was the place to go if you were having car trouble." The guy said an eerily happy voice. Dean swallowed.

"I need you to fill out some paper work, for when you leave your car here." Dean said and the man nodded his head.

"Why yes, of course." The man muttered as he brushed by Dean and back into the salvage yard. Dean muttered a couple of swear words under his breath before he turned and followed him.

Dean went into the small office of the salvage yard and yanked out a clipboard and a pen. He then marched back out and shoved it over it into the man's chest. The man grunted, but said nothing as he gripped the pen tightly in his hand and began to scrawl the needed information across the page.

When the man had completely his task he handed Dean back the clip and opened his phone once more. Dean read through the man's information his name apparently was Al, which was probably short for something but Dean didn't care enough to ask.

Dean went back to the mustang and pulled open its hood once more. He studied it and sighed he was going to have actually spend time trying to figure this one out instead of it just being an easy fix.

About fifteen minutes later another sports car drove up with a squeal of tires and the Al walks over to the passenger door, opens it, and climbs in. Dean watched the car turn sharply and pull out of the salvage yard. He snorted and thought 'Good riddance' just before looked deeper into the depths of the car hood.

~/~

At seven fifteen that night Dean threw up hands in exasperation. This couldn't be possible. He couldn't find a single thing wrong with this car and yet it still wasn't working. He heard Bobby shuffle into the garage and he pushed himself out from under the car.

"I give up. There is either nothing wrong with this car or everything is wrong with this car, which makes it a lost cause." Dean huffed and Bobby rolled his eyes.

"Try to tackle it more in the morning, but until then go home and take a break. Go relax or this car will just continue to drive you nuts." Bobby said with a shrug and Dean stood up looking at the older man in defeat.

"I guess you're right. I'm going to see if Sam's at the bar. Then I'm going to head home to Lisa." Dean said with a smile and Bobby smiled in return.

"Well then have fun." He said as he turned and strolled out walking over to the far corner of the salvage yard where his small farmhouse was located.

Dean quickly changed out of his greasy jeans and t-shirt before he hoped into the Impala and drove to the CrossRoads Bar.

He had lied to when he had told him he was going to the bar to look for Sam. He was actually looking for Castiel. He needed to talk to him. He needed to make sure Castiel knew to keep his mouth shut. Not to mention Dean also wanted to apologize for punching him.

He parked his car quickly and hustled through the bar's entrance. His sea green eyes scanned the bar, but he saw no sign of Castiel anywhere. Maybe he was in the back restocking.

Dean meandered over to the bar and sat down upon of the leather covered stools. He looked over at the door to the back room of the bar, but no one came out of it. A soft voice suddenly startled him and he toppled off the stool and on to the floor.

"What can I get for you Dean?" He blinked up at Kara, who was staring down at his fallen figure with a sad expression. He felt confused.

"Ah…A beer would be nice." He muttered as he picked himself up. Then he spoke again, "Where's Cass?"

"He quit and moved away." Kara said as she was about to turn away from Dean and walk back behind the bar.

"He did what?" Dean snapped abruptly and Kara stopped and twisted her head around to look at Dean. A curious look spread across her face, but she seemed to brush it away with a small shake of her head.

"No. He didn't. By the way Sam's not in tonight. He supposedly came by this afternoon before my shift to get his schedule for next week. He also might be filling bartending shifts I don't actually know. That is why you came in, right?" Kara said the last sentence quickly as if she was testing a hypothesis she had quickly cooked up in her brain.

But Dean answered quickly with both a "yes" and a nod of his head.

"I'll get you your beer Dean, but it will be a minute." She said abruptly as she turned her head away and traveled over to a booth that had become occupied during his and Kara's brief interaction.

Dean just pursed his lips and hustled out of the bar. He had to get home. This couldn't be happening.


	4. Story III Part I: Kara

_Thank you too: Camellia19, mahefa, EvilGeniusBookWorm13, bearberry915, Leilabeth for reviewing and i'm sure there were more who Alerted and faved... So thank you so much too. _

_No this story isn't dead...i'm not completely sure its alive, but its not dead. This part might appear to be boring...or it might just actually be boring...i'm not sure should be the one who should judge. The guys will be back...in the next few parts, which i should get around to writing...someday...what can i say...right now i'm lacking time, ambition, and desire...all of those things are needed to write. i hope i get them back soon, but until i do please enjoy this chapter and yikes its been awhile._

_Read, Review, and Enjoy... Thanks so much_

_~ Kai _

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><p><em>Story III Part I: Kara<em>

"Faster!" Her teacher yelled as Kara felt pain shoot up her ankle. She had twisted last Friday night and it still hadn't completely healed. She winched but continued to pliè. Her ankle protested, but she pushed through into another grand pliè.

She came back up, flinching as she did so. She watched her teacher's face twist in disapproval.

"We went over this Kara! You have to show no pain, even if you have it." She snapped and Kara nodded her head solemnly.

"I know. I'm sorry." She muttered as she gracefully moved away from the bar and over to her gray gym bag. She rustled through it for a few moments and pulled out a pink water bottle.

"The performance is less than two months away. Are you sure you'll be ready by that time? I can see that you work harder than anyone here, but you're constantly limping in here setting your training back, days and sometimes even weeks in advance. Not to mention today you seem more distracted than normal." Her teacher insisted and Kara bit her lip. She couldn't argue with what her teacher had said.

"I promise I'll be more careful, and I am more distracted than normal. My best friend was having problems that will probably lead him to make an irrational decision. I'm sorry, but I think I'm going to call it a day. I have to get home and change for work anyway." Kara sighed as she bent down and stuffed the pink plastic water bottle back into her gym bag.

Her teacher nodded her head and turned and walked out of the studio. Kara gazed at herself in the wall lengthened mirrors. She saw the black circles under her eyes that she couldn't even make disappear with makeup. She bit her lip again and pulled her bag over her shoulder and exited the studio.

Today just hadn't been her day. She had a headache that had been annoying her the entire day, not to mention her ankle hurt like hell. She sucked up her pain and hurried down the street towards the subway. She had twenty minutes to catch the next train, change clothes, and be at work. She hoped that she would somehow be able to catch the train just before it left. That of course was risky, but hey what was life without taking a risk now and then.

She hurried down the stair to the subway, passing people who were both going down and up. She shoved past them and she occasionally heard a cuss word muttered in her direction. She ignored them as she hurried down to the platform. She got there and noticed the train was just about ready to close its door. She sprinted towards it, ignoring the growing pain in her ankle.

Just as she stepped inside the door closed and she let out a long sigh of relief. At least one thing had gone right for her today and that was all she could ask for. She stumbled to towards the first open seat she could find and plopped herself down and closed her eyes, allowing for the first time since that morning to relax.

She opened them and was surprised to come face to face with Sam Winchester, or as everyone else at the bar called him the piano man. She blinked a couple of times to make sure she was actually seeing Sam, and when she was satisfied that she was she looked at him expectantly.

"You look tired." He said slowly and she just nodded.

"I am. I didn't know you took the train?" She muttered in a low voice, her energy slipping away from her.

"I don't take it all that often, but Dean was working late at the garage. So I just decided to head home and the quickest way to get there is to take the subway." Sam said with a shrug.

Kara gazed at Sam carefully. He had caught her eye from the moment she had met him. He was sweet and kind and by far the nicest guy she knew. Slowly her eyes raked over his face, which held much softer features then his brother, Dean did. Her eyes then locked with his hazel ones that were flecked with more brown then any of the other three colors that seemed to swirl around in his irises.

He blinked once at her as if he suddenly realized they were both just staring at each other and he looked away. Kara pursed her lips as she twisted her torso so that she could look for something that was in gym bag. She pulled it onto her lap and nearly shoved her whole head into the bag searching desperately for anything she could pretend to find. Finally she emerged from the depths of her bag and held her hand out to Sam.

Sam stared at it for a long moment then raised his own hand up and she gently placed tickets into his palm. He pulled his hand back when she drew away. He looked at the curiously then suddenly something seemed to click.

"Is this for your show?" He asked sounding suddenly excited and Kara's eyes went wider in surprise as she nodded her head up and down.

"Yeah… I would love it if you could come." She said with complete sincerity as she gave him a wide smile.

"What are you? So I know what to look for?" Sam then asked and Kara bit her lip.

"I'm the part of the ensemble, but I dance with the lead, in the second act just after the climax." She says slowly and she watches Sam study her carefully and then nodded.

"It sounds important." And Kara smiled at him and shook her head.

"The dance isn't as advanced as I can do and it's nowhere near important as important as the lead." She scoffed and Sam's brow furrowed.

"Any part you play is important." He said completely serious and Kara blinked at him a couple of times in surprise before she looked away to hide the blush that creeping across her cheeks.

She couldn't let into her temptations. She needed stay focused. She needed to keep the thoughts of the piano man out of her head.

She looked away from Sam and out the small dark window. She didn't see anything but the dark cement tunnel they were travelling in. She then looked back at Sam and gave him a small smile.

"Thanks. " She softly and Sam finally smiled at her back at her and she felt her heart for a brief second stop beating completely.

A disembodied voice suddenly sounded indicating that the next stop on the train was fast approaching. She saw Sam shift in his seat then rise to his feet. Kara almost felt disappointed that his stop had come so soon.

She looked down at her lap then back up at Sam, who had wandered a few paces closer to the doors. When the train stopped and the doors swung open she watched Sam exit quickly. Her eyes followed him as he took long strides across the platform.

Sam turned back and looked at the train. Their eyes locked and Sam raised his hand and waved as the train's door closed sharply. Kara watched him wave for a moment before she too raised her hand and waved as the train slow rolled away from the platform. After that for some reason she couldn't stop smiling.

Kara spent the next fifteen minutes going over and over the moves for her dance. She tried to visual the moves and how each of them flowed flawlessly into the next. She realized in short order that she was going to have to practice more. She rolled her eyes and bit her lip.

She knew she couldn't afford to miss any shifts at the bar. She needed all the money she could get. That was what she envied about some of the other girls at the company. Most of them didn't have to work to pay rent and pay to study at the company.

She clenched her fist and felt her nails dig sharply into her palm. Kara knew she worked just as hard or harder than half of the girls and all she had to show for it was exhaustion because she didn't have enough time to do anything other than work.

No time for working. No time for practicing. No time for sleeping. No time for eating. No nothing…

Tipping her head back she stared up at the train's divot covered ceiling and in a futile attempt to waste what little time she had, she began counting each of those tiny divots until the train finally reached her stop and she hopped off and hurried over towards the rundown apartment building she called home.

She reached it and, quickly, turned and raced up the stoop and into the building. Finally she reached 4A and pushed the door open gently. Her gym bag crashed to the floor as she looked around saw that most of Castiel things had been packed away.

The air vanished from her lungs as she raced towards his room and threw the door open. Tears suddenly burned her eyes and as she stared at the emptiness. Nothing was left in his room except the furniture, which had all been stripped bare.

Castiel's double bed was down to only its mattress, and Castiel's desk that had once been piled high with papers looked completely different now cleaned off with only a small black desk lamp upon it. The bookshelf that stood tall beside the desk was empty as well. All the books that had adorned its shelves had vanished most likely put away in one of the many boxes that Castiel had scattered around the apartment.

Kara sighed and slumped down the bare and empty bed. She looked around once more and shook her head in disappointment. She loved Castiel, but he was a coward. Castiel had obviously really loved this man or he wouldn't have taken such extreme measures to have gotten away from him. She hoped that whoever it was that Castiel had loved so much, realized just what they had lost. Because Kara was sure that he wouldn't be able to get it back.

After wallowing in her sorrow for a few more minutes, Kara picked herself up and hustled into her own room so she could change for work. It didn't take long and she rushed from her apartment realizing that she was once again running later.

She was at the bar in a matter of minutes. That was the one thing that she really liked about her job it was close. The cold Kansas air wrapped around her body quickly as she hurried down the street, and her teeth were chattered loudly by the time the red neon lights of the CrossRoads enter her field of vision.

She yanked open the bar's door and was swept up by the sudden warmth that was now surrounding her. She shivered as the warm air connected with the cold air that clung to her skin and wrapped her coat around herself tighter as she stepped further into the bar.

"Where have you been?" Cain's voice sounded from behind and she whirled around to face him. She bit her lip and shrugged.

"I'm sorry. A lot has happened today. I'm already sure you know about half of it." She muttered bitterly and Cain chuckled dryly.

"Yes, Castiel did step in to tell me he was leaving. You wouldn't happen to know the reason why? He failed to tell me and I figured it was none of my business to press, but I am curious." He said with a light tone and a small shrug of his shoulders.

Kara sighed and shook her head, "I don't really know the complete reason either. It had something to do with a guy. A guy who apparently is still in the closet about being gay…Look I shouldn't even be telling you this because it's none of my business either." She paused, "What I'm actually curious about, is what, are we going to do without a bartender?"

Cain's face twisted slightly in thought as his lips pressed together in a hard line. "I'll pick up the slack for a little while. I'm pretty sure I could convince Sam to take up a shift or two if I compounded his earning as the piano man with that of the bartender."

"But he can't bartend when he is performing, and when he is performing I alone can't possibly handle that big of crowd. I'd die…and I rather not with my own performance looming ever so closely."

Cain nodded his up and down in understanding, "Your right. I'll start looking for a new hire right away and hopefully…we'll be able to find a replacement for Castiel by the time of Sam's next show."

"You do know that we could never actually truly replace Castiel right?" Kara asked slowly and Cain gave her a reassuring smile.

"I know and I would never try to." He said softly as he leaned down and gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

~/~

Kara spent the next hour and half running from the booths to the bar bring drinks to the patrons. She smiled at each of them, but she could feel that there was no heart behind her smile. She looked over at the bar and saw Cain pouring a few drinks before he vanished into the back of the bar to go over finances, which was what he normally did during regular business hours when they had had a bartender.

Cain jerked his head towards the door, showing her that he was going into the back for awhile now that the steady stream of customers had slowed slightly. She nodded her head indicating that she could handle for a bit and watched him vanish behind the door into the back.

She sighed and trudged back to the bar only noticing that Dean Winchester, Sam's brother was sitting at the other end of the bar gazing around like he was searching for something…or someone.

She didn't want to make that connection, but her first thought jumped to Castiel. It felt silly, but after their brief conversation she felt that her theory wasn't that far off. She gave Dean a small smile as she marched over to the bar and filled his order.

She entire time she thought about the surprise shock that had been clear and evident Dean's face, but what she was more surprised of was when she turned around back from the bar, Dean was already gone.


	5. Story IV Part I: Bobby

_Yes, I know it's been a while since I uploaded this story, but I guess in the end I just didn't want it to die...so here chapter four (five because the prolog counted as chapter 1) This one is in Bobby's perspective...this was a new thing for me because though he is mentioned I never tried to get into his head. This story I get to go inside his head a bit. I'm not sure his story parts will occur as often as the others but they will occur and I hope they are enjoyable. Please tell if you like what I got...since my motivation for this story is like zero. If i get feedback I'll start working on it again. _

_~Kai_

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><p><em>Story IV part I: Bobby<em>

Bobby stared down at the papers that littered his desk. He bit his lip and pushed them aside. He would deal with them later. Slowly he opened the bottom drawer and pulled out a half open bottle of Scotch. He slammed it roughly on his desk and a small crack crisscrossed along its base. It was just one of those days that just kept on giving.

He had lied. He of course hadn't really meant to, but he had. He had no excuse really other then he was protecting them, and there was nothing those boys needed more than protection. A huff escaped his lips as he grabbed the bottle of scotch by its neck and poured it into a chipped mug Sam and Dean had made him many father's day ago. He stared at the inscription that had been carved roughly into the porcelain 'You're the best'.

He sighed as he wished that were true. He brought the mug up to his lips and drained the cup in one gulp. It had been a long day and it right then it just seemed to be getting longer. The phone then rang and he reached out instinctively to grab, but stopped just before he had gripped the receiver.

He knew it could either be one of two people. Both people he had no desire to speak with, but he out a long sigh and picked up the phone reluctantly.

"Singer Salvage Yard; Bobby Singer speaking," Bobby muttered into the receiver.

"It's me…" a man's voice said softly and Bobby pinched his eyes shut.

"What do you want?" Bobby snarled

"Just an update…Don't you think I deserve them? They are my sons after all."

"No, I'm not sure you do. You abandoned them on my doorstep. They are good kids and they didn't deserve the shit you put them through. Don't call again and if you try to see either of them I swear I'm going to hunt you down and shoot you." Bobby growled into the receiver.

There was a long silence at the other end of the line before the other man spoke again, "I just want to see them. Is that so wrong? Plus they are grown men, what say do you have in whether they want to see me or not?" The voice asked in a low voice as if begging to some sort of approval that Bobby just couldn't give.

"I know you mean well John, but sometimes that's just not enough. If you clean up your act then I'll think about it and let the boys make their decision then. I know they are grown men, but you left deep wounds John and they left nasty scars." Bobby sighed, feeling slightly defeated.

In all honesty, Bobby liked John; the only problem was that John couldn't stay clean. Not from the drugs, the alcohol, or the menial sex from women. Deep down Bobby knew John had loved Mary and her death had been a tragic accident that one would never have been able to predict or control. But that didn't make it hurt John any less, which had caused him fall into a rut. A huge rut that had drove him away from his friends and family, but mostly from the great man he use to be.

At first Bobby had worked to help John get better, but it quickly became evident that John didn't want help. Bobby then gave up on that and took his sons away, and as far as Bobby could tell John hadn't started to miss them till now.

"John, if you really want to see them prove it to both of them. I'll try to warm them up to the idea of you, but I can't promise they'll agree. Both of them took you abandonment really hard." Bobby sighed into the phone. He heard John's even breathing suddenly quicken.

"Your right. That probably is the way to go. Thank you so much Bobby. I owe you one." The line then clicked and Bobby was left listening to dead air.

Bobby sighed once more as he hung up the receiver. Conversations always went that way with John. Slowly he scrapped his calloused hand over his face. Yes, of course, he wanted the boys to know their real father, but there was something else nagging him. And it was that, most of all, Bobby didn't want to lose the connect he had with the boys either. And maybe if John were to actually live up to his promises and stay clean the boys might go to him instead.

Yes, he knew it was selfish, but he couldn't help it. He had taken care of those boys and he didn't want to lose them both over a promise made of sand.

Bobby really didn't want to think about that. He had enough on his mind without having to deal with John, the absent father.

Suddenly the phone admitted another shrill ring and Bobby looked at it and rolled his eyes, knowing good and well who was on the other end of the line. He reached for it and plucked it from its cradle speaking gruffly into the receiver, "Singer Salvage yard, Bobby Singer speaking."

He recognized the voice almost immediately. He nodded his head in understanding as the voice continued to rattle something off.

"Of course, I promise I'll come in first thing in the morning." Bobby said reassuringly into the phone, which was most likely to appease the voice at the other end of the line. "I know I need to worry about this. I just." Bobby finished with a nod of his head as the voice interrupts him once more.

Finally he hangs up the phone for a second time. Feeling even more haggard then he had when he had spoken with John. It had been a long day and it just kept getting longer.

Bobby thought that maybe he should call Dean and inform him that he wasn't going to be in the next morning and Dean would have to open the salvage yard, but decided against it. He would let Dean know later. There was no need to worry Dean, if he didn't have to. Plus Dean had enough on his plate.

Bobby could see just how difficult it was for Dean just to keep it together. Whatever had happened to him last night had been hard on him and worrying him would just be unnecessary.

He gazed around his office taking in all the details, from the large crack in his ceiling to the mysterious stain that he had tried to hide by pulling his desk over it. Slowly, he stood up from his chair and walked over to the small door leading from the office to the garage. He yanked it open and strolled out of the office locking the door, with the loud click of the tumbler falling. Doing this was more out of habit then caution. Bobby was almost certain that there was nothing worth stealing in his office…Other than his bottle of Scotch.

He wandered into the brightly lit garage had car various car parts from every model littering the ground, along with large and small piles of motor oil and other dark liquids that Bobby didn't want to try and identify. He looked around and his gaze landed on the sports car that had been brought in earlier that day, by the pompous arrogant dick that only seemed to want to get Dean's goat.

He paced over to the car and pulled its hood up and gazed down into the depths at the engine. At first look Bobby couldn't see that anything was amiss. But then he took a second look and sighed as he slouched down into the depths of the car.

Dean had been right, this guy was a jerk and the problem with his car proved it. Bobby rolled his eyes and quickly reached down into the car and quickly fixed the problem. He'd mention it to Dean in the morning and tell it wasn't his fault for missing it.

Bobby pulled himself out from the depths of the car and slammed the hood down with a loud crash as he trudged over to the door of the garage. He stopped in the door way looked over at his small yellow faded farmhouse. He sighed as he flicked out and slammed the door behind him.

He was getting to old for this.


End file.
